The Lost Memories
by xHowlingWolfx
Summary: A young girl is being enslaved and seperated from her village and family. Along with the other prisoners and she she is brought to egypt. One day she meets the king of this new country, the Pharaoh.
1. Chapter 1

She had a terrible headache. But, considering the situation she was in, she was sure it wouldn't be over so soon.

The dirty carriage she sat in was rattling in an unnerving sound and every stone it's wheel hit seemed to hammer at her forehead.

She had her eyes closed but she could hear the other prisoners mourn and coughing and their smell made her sick. She moved a bit to the left to make sitting a bit more comfortable. She bumped slightly into the man on her left. He didn't say anything. She neither. How could she now whether that guy even lived? She felt a liquid dropping on her arm. The man must be bleeding pretty hard.

The hours went by. For some time she fell asleep but never long for she dreamt of her home and the easy dreams rapidly turned into nightmares.

After driving the whole day, they finally stopped and she opened her eyes for the first time. The sight of all these half-dead men was even worse than she'd expected and she looked at the carriage's floor. It was covered with blood-soaked straw.

Suddenly a movement from the dark outside of the vehicle. A man lit a torch and enlightened the night. His skin was darker than she was used to. He looked just like the men that had attacked their village. She ground her teeth. These were the men responsible for her village's and her terrible fate.

He said something to them in an unknown language and another man came and pulled them out of the carriage one by one. He gripped her arm and pushed her out onto the ground. There she stood in line with the others. They were all at least one to two heads taller and way older than her. Only one young man was about her age and was trembling with fear, his face covered in blood.

There were only men. Once again she wondered why she was the only one that was brought away from the village.

She looked around and tried to figure out where she was. She heard a loud rush and an unfamiliar smell got into her nose. This was no place she knew. The wind blew heavy and the rush became louder. For the first time she felt more than the normal fear but also panic. Being with the others in a carriage was different from standing in total darkness with no orientation whatsoever and not knowing what these terrifying loud noises were.

As the last man came out of the carriage one of the two dark-skinned men stayed with them, watching them carefully and spitting harsh words at everyone who dared to move. The other one walked away, enlightening what was ahead. A shock ran through her body for at first she thought this must be one of the dark monster her mother had told her about when she was young. But then she realised that it was made of wood and that the man entered it. It was waving and as the man entered it, new lights appeared inside it and men were shouting. The man returned and waved at the other one, that was watching over them. He shouted something and lifted a lash. He whipped them and it left deep cut wounds where it hit.

They moved onto the wooden monster and she saw that it was surrounded by water. But it wasn't that kind of water she knew. It was wild and full of rage.

Again, the men cried something and they were pushed down into the bottom of the ship where they had to take turns in the rowing.

The girl, of whom the dark-skinned men thought to be a young man, sat in a dark corner, surrounded by others waiting for their turn to start. She guessed now that they believed her to be a boy. Otherwise they wouldn't make her row. The other prisoners might be men, rough and with enough strength to take on a journey like this, but she wasn't. Even though she was a trained warrior she wouldn't be able to make it through like that. She had already guessed that they didn't know she was female. After all, all the other women had been left in the village. And now that they didn't make her scrub the ship's deck, or any other job meant for women, it was obvious that her short hair and trained body had fooled them.

The time went by and they got little food and some water. Then it was their turn to row. At first it was easier than she had expected and her heart felt more lightly. She thought that she might be able to stand through this if she just had the willpower to do so.

However, as easy as the first turn was, the second turn was hell and the turn after that even worse. They only had little time to sleep during their turns and she wasn't able to sleep through because the pain she felt in her arms was too much. Soon the other prisoners noticed her weakness and slow rowing and brought it to the guards attention, using gestures, for they too didn't speak their language.

The guards became angry and pushed her from the rowing seat onto deck.

They shouted at her in madness but of course she had no clue in what they said. However she guessed what would happen now. She was of no use on this ship. All she did was take space and food and the rare drinking water. They decided on whether they should throw her down into the cold, dark sea. Suddenly an unknown panic and angst got hold of her and the only thing she could think of was the desire to live. She knew she would lose all her pride begging for her life but what was left anyway? All she had was her life and her pride and in this moment it was her life that was more important to her.

It was the first time since they had separated her from the other prisoners that she spoke. Her voice was cracked and her mouth too dry to speak clearly, but since they wouldn't be able understand her anyway, she didn't care.

"P-please. Don't. I can be of use!" she cried and felt disgusted of herself at the same moment. She didn't dare to speak more. She lifted her head and saw their furious but thoughtful eyes. Again they exchanged words and one of them took her and threw her into what seemed to be the kitchen. She realised that they had reconsidered her fate and instead let her be of use in the kitchen. Which was, of course, a work a woman would have done and she was glad for it.

She didn't know how long they had been on that ship. After four weeks she stopped counting the days. All she knew was that the water slowly ran out because the weather became hotter and rain fell rarely. The other prisoners rowed slowly, for the food too had to be rationed.

One day she woke up after few hours of sleep. The cook had called her to scrub the deck before the everyday-activities would start. It was still dark but already hot and the sweat ran down her face as she scrubbed as hard and fast as she could, for the overseer stood behind her with his lash, thirsting for a reason to whip her.

Scarcely after she was done, the other men woke up and the sun set. She went into the kitchen to help with preparations. After few hours she suddenly heard one of the men shouting and others, even the cook, running outside and throwing themselves at the balustrade. They were all shouting happily and laughing. She suppressed the urge to get outside the hot room and look. The cook returned with a bright smile on his face. He laughed as he went back to his work and even spoke to the prisoner, although he knew that she didn't understand a word. However, she was starting to make some sense out of their words.

During this long time on the ship the cook had somehow found a liking in her and had started to point at kitchen-tools and named them.

They even had some confused conversations, although they had been few. Of course the cook would never find real sympathy for a prisoner whom he would never meet again.

Suddenly she recognized the words deck and balustrade in his sentence. She looked up. He stood next to the door and gestured her to stand up and go outside with him.

She couldn't believe what she saw. Why did he do that? It was impossible he couldn't just start to treat her nicely.

She stood up and walked outside before him. The sun shone brightly and although it burned her skin the wind brought a cool refreshment and her heart felt a lot lighter immediately. He brought her to the balustrade and with a smile he lifted his hand, showing her the land that lay before them.

It was a clear day and the outlines of the land were easily to recognize. The man laughed and began to speak again. This time she didn't understand a word. She looked at the land drawing slowly nearer. She couldn't see much but what she saw was brown. A lot of it.

What was that kind of land? It was flat there were no mountains, no wood. She was raised in a village in the mountains surrounded by woods and the unknown landscape once again brought panic into her heart. Now she suddenly realised that she would never be able to return. That whole panic and fear crushed over her and she felt her knees becoming soft and her vision blurry.

Before she fell she hold a grip at the balustrade and lifted herself up once again. There was no way that she could show fear and weakness now. She was raised a warrior. It was terrible enough that she still lived. She would stand through this and find a way to return.

And if not, there was still the death welcoming her. But this time, it'd be her and not someone else who would perform the one last strike.


	2. Chapter 2

They were handcuffed once again. A man with a lash walked behind them and another one with a list before them.

After they had landed the men had gripped her and dragged out of the kitchen. Now she felt the hot sand under her bare feet. The ripped clothes she wore didn't protect her skin and she felt the sun burn hot down at her. Her head began to hurt again.

They walked for some time until they came to a court with other dark-skinned men, waiting for them.

They were placed next to each other and one of the men took the list and examined each of them.

As they came to her they said something and she first didn't know what they meant. Then she understood.

"Sari." She answered and hated herself and each one of them at the same time. How dare they asked for the name she had been given by her mother!

The man looked at his list and seemed unsure. He said something to the man who had been driving their carriage at the beginning of their journey. He answered and the man with the list turned back to her. He wrote something on the list and went on to the other prisoners.

She knew that from then on they would all be slaves.

She was brought to a great house build of stone. That was new to her for the cabins in the village had mostly been made of wood.

A tall man with scars all over his body greeted them. He gave the man who brought her a pack with gold and took his lash from his belt. He shouted something at her and she knew she had to move forward. They passed great rooms with weapons, armours and many other tools made for war.

They entered a great hall with many men in it. They all looked worn out and bruised all over. She realised now that they were all warriors.

Was that the reason she was taken? Because they wanted her to fight?

She didn't understand but then the scarred man took off her handcuffs and demanded one of the men to come over. He sad something and the man grinned. He was bald and he too was scarred all over his body. Other men were laughing now. Sari understood why.

That man was at least one head taller than her and way too heavy as for her to be able to proper defend herself. However, she was sure to be killed if she couldn't at least give them some fight, so she took her stance and stretched her arms and legs. The man laughed at her stance, for it was unfamiliar to him. He was used to boxing-matches and rough fighting. Therefore she knew that the advantage lay with her, for she had fought against men like him. He however surely never had to face an opponent like her. For once, because she was a woman which gave her more speed and that was crucial in a battle.

She rearranged her stance slightly and balanced her body out with her feet. Her hands were lifted before her chest. The man attacked.

A first blow with his right fist aiming directly at her stomach. Of course he planned to knock her out as soon as possible to show his master what he was capable off. However, she had read his movement and therefore blocked with her left hand, spinning at his right side. With her right hand she gave him a pin-point blow to his neck, which left him stumbling a few steps. He then kicked with his left leg. Sari blocked once again. However, this time there was no space to turn to, so she had to take the blow in . She grinned her teeth for the blow was hard. She too returned a kick. She turned on her left leg and by that giving the kick more speed and power. She hit him with her right heel right at his temple. He stumbled once again. Then lost consciousness. She hoped she didn't kill him.

The room was completely silent as Sari looked down at the man she had just beaten. It had felt great. After weeks of imprisonment she had finally been able to let out all that aggression that she had been holding down for all this time. But still she felt as if she wasn't done yet.

There were a lot of other men, standing there waiting for their master to say something. He however just stared at her in the same amazement the others felt.

"So?! Who will I fight next?!" she screamed and waved her hand over the crowd of men. She made a step towards them and none backed off. They were brave men used to fights that took all of their strength.

The man she from now on had to announce as her master stepped forward and chained her hands behind her back again.

He brought her to the dorms and left her there.

From there her new everyday life started. She started training with the other men and soon learned to understand them roughly. They all payed her respect for she was able to stand up to them although she had such a tiny and small figure.

Soon she was engaged in the tournaments. It was like some kind of circus where the warriors fought each other till death if it had to be, in order to amuse their paying customers.

Already after a few fights, her master told her that the people loved her unique way of fighting and he wanted her to be in more tournaments than she had been before. Of course he just told her, he didn't ask. She was still but a slave.

Although she fought so many battles, she still felt a hot burning anger some times. It was the anger that had built up during the first days in the new land that as she new now, was Egypt.

At times, even the urge to kill and let out all her anger and sorrow on the man who was her opponent overflowed her. But she held back and never killed a soul.

One afternoon as she was practising on the training pitch, the master came to her in excitement. He told her that her victories had reached the ear of the great king, the Pharaoh. He wanted to attend her next fight. Her master grinned wildly and explained that that meant that even more costumers would come to the tournament. Which of course meant more money.

The day of the tournament she felt as calm as ever. She didn't know who that Pharaoh was, only that he ruled this country.

As always she waited inside a dark tunnel, waiting for the gate to be opened. As it did, the sun blended her and she needed a few seconds to get used to the sudden light.

The arena build up from within the light. The places were more crowed than usual. The people screamed and laughed awaiting the fight and death of the warriors. Their behaviour made her sick. It was that blood lust and adrenaline that emerged inside her as she heard their cries. And she hated herself for it. She didn't want to become cold hearted but it was necessary for her own survival.

She clenched her fist and stepped out of the shadow and into the stadium. The cries were louder now. These people already knew her and loved her performance in the deadly dance. She waved her hand at the crowd and searched the tribune for the Pharaoh.

He sat in a tent to shield him from the sun and was surrounded by his priests who shielded him from the crowd and curious eyes. The space between them was quite narrow and she was unable to see him clearly, but she was sure to see that he was young, for he wasn't very tall and he seemed even smaller, sitting in that great throne of his. She guessed that he was about her age or maybe even younger. Probably not older than fifteen years.

The other warriors came out of one of the four tunnels, each holding a deadly weapon. The warriors formed a row facing the Pharaoh. They held up their weapons and Sari followed their movements, holding up her knife. Now the men spoke something to their king but she didn't know what it meant so she remained silent.

Standing closer to the tribune now, she was able to see him more clearly. As she had thought he was pretty young, sitting on that great throne that must have been specially been brought here for him. She wondered why it was that he ruled this country at his young age. Strains of golden hair fell on his shadow-hidden face and she wondered what this child was thinking right now.

The usual curator spoke the words that told them to begin and Sari and the men each took a place at the outside of the ring. For one or two minutes it was silent. The warriors were looking carefully at each other, trying to make out their opponents movement. Two attacked each other and by their noise the others too ran forward and started their deadly dance.

Only Sari and one other guy she didn't know where left glaring at each other. She felt his adrenaline and closed her eyes to make sure she herself wouldn't lose her temper. As she did so the man jumped forward swinging his spear. Sari heard his way too loud movements and read each of them as he launched his attack. With eyes closed she blocked the attack with her knife and after standing like that for a few seconds she gathered her strength and pushed him back.

One after one the men went down. If avoidable they let each other live, however they all felt the pressure to be the best and therefore fought with all their strength.

The last man was brought down by a heavy kick of Sari and he held his head as blood swelled from his front.

"Sorry." She whispered in her mother-tongue and turned to face the crowd of cheering people. The gates were opened and she took her leave through the nearest one.

The guards that took her back to her master already waited for her. She approached them and let them chain her. One of them took her by her right shoulder and pushed her forward.

Soon she realised that this wasn't the usual way. Instead of going down they took two stairs up and suddenly the sun blinded her. They were outside on the tribune now. She followed the guards wondering, as she saw one of the priests that had been with the young Pharaoh.

The guards stopped.

"High-priest Seth." One of them sad and the tall, dark-skinned man looked down at her in disgrace. He didn't answer but turned to his master.

"My King. Are you sure about this? This man is nothing but a foreign slave. He might not even understand you." There was a tone of disobedience in his voice and Sari understood that she wasn't the only one to notice it, for the other priests gave Priest Seth a warning look.

"It is alright." The young Pharaoh sad. His voice was way deeper as she'd expected, regarding his small statue. Somehow his voice gave her a chill and she couldn't figure out why.

The guards pushed her forward and Sari, not having expected that, trembled and kneed before the king. She lowered her head. Even though he wasn't and would never be her king, she felt a might emerging from the young man hidden in the shadows.

She heard him stand up and suddenly he held out a hand for her. She flinched. What was happening? Why would he hold out his hand as if to help her stand up?

She looked up and saw the surprised and shocked looks on the High-priest's faces. She knew it wasn't her right to do so but even so she took his hand and let him help her to stand up.

Still, she feared to look at his face and therefore fixed her gaze on her feet.

"Great Pharaoh! What are you doing?" Priest Seth asked the young man who however just held up his hand, signalizing him to be silent.

"You may face me." He said to her and Sari looked up slowly.

His arms and legs were covered with golden bangles. The clothes were light and a belt in golden and blue colours tightened the nearly white dress. A great crown, sitting on his forehead shown from beneath his hair. It looked very heavy and too was made out of gold. His whole face seemed to shine because the golden earrings, necklace and crown all reflected the sun.

His tricoloured hair was spiked. Blond strands of hair fell into his face and three others were standing up before the black hair that shimmered red in the sunlight. His pupils where of an amethyst colour and looked too mature in comparison with his childish body.

He smiled. A warmth filled her body that had nothing to do with the hot-burning sun. Why? Why was a great king as such smiling down at a dirty, sweaty slave?

"You fought well. That is a very unique art that you're using as I have never seen anything as such." He stopped and Sari feared that he might be awaiting a reply.

"Th-thank you." She answered stuttering. As he went on it looked as if he was searching for the right words.

"Ehm.. Someone as you could be of great use in the palace." His eyes went up and he didn't look at anyone directly. Was he nervous? Because of his Priests reaction?

"For example for training the other guards. That'd give you a place to live in the royal palace." Sari couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was this reality? And even so, why was he asking her? He gave her the opportunity to neglect him. That was no way a king would act for he has the power to command her master to give her to him.

"That would be a great honour, Mighty Pharaoh." She answered and bowed.

"But-" She went on: "It surely is not my decision to make." She straightened up again and looked at him directly.

"That shall be no problem." He answered and turned to one of his Priests.

"Mahado. I will leave it to you to organize her move into the palace. I shall expect it to be done in the upcoming two days." The Priest bowed and suddenly they all were on the move, returning to the palace.

Sari stood there, taken aback, as the guard took her back into the building. She caught a last glimpse at the Pharaoh with his boyish appearance, glittering in the sun as he vanished behind his Priests.


End file.
